And Then You
by heckyeahbatfam
Summary: A collection of unrelated Dick/Babs oneshots, because their pairing needs more love!
1. Verbal Seduction

**Based off of youngjusticeheadcanon's #212.**

**In other news, _I should never be allowed coffee and the laptop at the same time, ever._**

* * *

Having spent the majority of his childhood in a traveling circus, Dick had been exposed to a myriad of diverse languages and cultures at a very young age.

His first languages had been English and Romani, but he had become proficient in several others by the age of nine, when Bruce Wayne had taken him in as his ward.

And Dick, being Dick, was known to randomly throw out extraneous foreign expressions in various languages in the Cave and in public. The original team members had adjusted to it after a while, and simply ignoring his outbursts, but some of the new kids weren't quite used to it.

Except for Barbara Gordon, of course.

Having grown up with Dick Grayson's affinity for the same kinds of outbursts, it had taken her all of two hours after meeting Robin to realize that he and Dick were one and the same.

And, as his best friend, she had quickly become tired of the inability to understand almost all of his multilingual quips- so she had done some language studying on her own.

By the time she was Batgirl and he was Nightwing, they were pretty evenly matched. They used several different languages in their constant banter, trading retorts for ripostes and jabs for insults- all in French, German, or, occasionally, Spanish.

And unfortunately, for the rest of the team, this meant having to put up with confusing, bi-or-trilingual conversations, and more than a few _extremely _diverse vulgarities.

Dick and Barbara had had a longstanding tradition of trying to see who could invent the most uncouth of repartees in any of their given languages -and how long they could continue an indecent conversation in said language before having to be separated- a habit they carried over into their respective superhero personas.

Basically, they tried to see who could be the most blatantly sexual in said language.

(Tim, ever the adorable geek, called them 'verbal seduction duels' -but Dick and Barbara just called them 'daily conversations'.)

* * *

"Hey, can you pass me the salt?" Barbara calls across the kitchen to Dick, who's standing on the opposite end of the island in the middle of the room, eating an apple and laughing with Wally.

It's her turn to make dinner -team dinners are an after-mission ritual- and she needs a little something to spruce up her currently bland dish.

"Sure thing," he says, stretching over to grab it from its place on the dining room table. He walks over and hands it to her, peering over her shoulder to check the contents of the pan. She's taken the lid off, and he can see that she's in the middle of her delicious chili verde recipe.

"Ooh," he says with a sigh, "_me gusta."_

Dick tries to sneak a taste of it off her stirring spoon, but she swats his hand away. "_Todavía no_!" she scolds, lapsing into Spanish. _Not yet!_

_"Pero lo quiero,"_ he whines, _but I want it, _reaching for the spoon again, but Barbara moves it away again and smacks him lightly upside the head before turning back to the pan. If he could see her face, he'd notice the beginning of a sly smile, but his eyes are still zeroed in on the food over her shoulder.

_"Si?" _she says innocently, "_te quiero._" _Yeah? I want __**you**__._

Distantly, he hears the collective groans of Wally, Artemis, Beast Boy, and Superboy, because _not again, why does this happen every night?_

He opts to ignore them, as always.

_"Hagámoslo, _Babs_,"_ he says, pulling his most seductive face.

_Let's do it._

She sees his expression and laughs, shooing him out of the kitchen.

Turning back to the chili verde, she calls loudly across to the living room, "_Hazme el amor_!" _Make love to me! _and he chuckles, stretching himself out luxuriously across the sofa.

"_Quiero hacerte el amor!_" Dick yells, even louder, _I want to make love to you! _And he laughs, because this is going to get out of hand _very quickly._

Wally and his other friends try to carry on their conversation, but it's a bit difficult considering the fact that they must now attempt talk over the rising volume of Dick and Babs' indecipherable vulgarities.

(They most certainly do not notice the small form of one horrified Jaime Reyes standing in one side of the doorway.)

Barbara shouts _"Tengamos sexo!" _from her place by the stove -_Let's have sex!_- and it sends Dick off into hysterical laughter. After all, no one ever said crude jokes weren't funny,and he _is_ still a teenager.

"_Quiero cogerte!" _he cries, but he's laughing so hard that he's barely understandable.

_I want to fuck you!_

And he hears Wally's confused "_What are they even saying?" _ but nobody answers him.

Babs, however, is not to be outdone. Tossing away the stirring spoon, she shrieks "_Cojamos toda la noche!"_ abandoning her chili verde for the time being. _Let's fuck all night! _And, to add fuel to the flames, she writhes around, over-the-top seductively, to which Dick responds with a very obscene _take me now _gesture.

At this, their friends decide desert the kitchen once and for all, food or no –even Wally. They head for the hallway, unable to listen to one more word-

Where they finally notice Jaime, standing in the doorway.

Oblivious, Dick and Babs continue to exercise their sexual vocabulary words while Jaime just stands there, looking like he's about to have some kind of nervous breakdown.

"Dude," Wally says, after a pause, "aren't you fluent in-"

Artemis elbows him, because_ don't make it worse, Wallace_.

She takes Jaime by the shoulder, attempting to lead him away, but he's frozen in place. She turns back to face the living room.

"Cut it out!" she shouts at the bantering duo. "There are impressionable children here!"

To their credit, Dick and Barbara freeze, immediately quiet.

"Crap," Barbara whispers, and Dick looks sufficiently ashamed.

"How long were you standing-" he starts, sitting up.

"The whole time."

They all pause until they hear the pan on the stove whistle and pop, at which Barbara turns and hurries back to the stove.

Finally, Dick breaks the silence. "I, uh," he winces, "am really sorry-"

"Don't be," Jaime says, but he still looks traumatized. "I'm just going to go... I have that thing..." He practically runs for the hallway to escape the horrors of the living room.

Dick drags a hand down his face, utterly embarrassed.

"Dinner's at 9!" Babs calls after Jaime, after a few seconds of awkward silence.

Jaime doesn't respond, but the team can just barely hear his whispered "I hate you all so much, oh my God."

And Dick has to laugh.


	2. And Then There's You

The first knock on Barbara's door startles her so badly that she only narrowly avoids spilling her mug of coffee right onto the beige carpet.

It's close to 12 o'clock in the morning, so the drink's decaf, but the heavy thump on the door causes her hand to jerk as if it's loaded with jittery caffeine. She steadies her hand, sets the cup down on the kitchen counter and pads on socked feet to the door.

Barbara grasps the handle, opening it with a small frown.

"Nice night, isn't it?" Nightwing says, leaning heavily against her doorframe. His face is bloodied and speckled with the beginnings of purple bruises, and his mask and uniform are torn in several places.

She takes a reflexive step backward and gasps. "What _happened_ to you?"

He grins, dazed, wavering a little where he stands. She just barely manages to catch him before he starts to collapse in the doorway.

He's bleeding heavily, but she doesn't have time to throw down a towl; resigns herself to the fact that she'll have to replace the sofa. Again.

"Where are you bleeding from?" she asks frantically. "How serious is it?"

"Just a few scratches," he groans, mostly relying on her to keep him upright. "Miscalculated a landing or two."

"Onto what, a bed of nails? A window?" She asks in disbelief, bringing him fully inside. He's heavy, almost deadweight, but she's pretty strong. Maneuvering the door shut with her ankle, Barbara deposits him on the sofa and goes for a washcloth in the kitchen, her coffee abandoned.

"Crystal chandelier, actually." He shoots her a self-deprecating smirk, but discomfort tugs at the sides of his mouth. Stretching out across the sofa scrapes against his sore muscles and scratched limbs, and he winces.

"You went on patrol without me," she accuses. "You promised you wouldn't!" After wetting the washcloth, she returns to the living room, shoves his legs over to make room for her to sit beside him.

"Hey, I've been patrolling alone longer than you," he argues, starting to sit up and then thinking better of it. "I can take care of myself."

"Which is exactly why you're currently bleeding all over my couch," Barbara deadpans, swiping at his facial cuts with the cloth.

"Okay, well." He closes his eyes. "Most of the time."

"And not that I don't enjoy having you ruin my couch, -_again_- but why didn't you just go back to the Manor?" she asks, brushing his hair over to wash off the congealed blood on his forehead. "Alfred could do a much better job of this than me."

Dick flinches when she accidentally prods a sensitive bruise in the process of removing his shredded mask, and Barbara mutters an apology.

He cracks one eye open then, says, "Your apartment's closer," grinning cheekily.

She sighs, lowers her voice minutely. "You promise you'd get some sleep tonight." He shuts his eyes again when she rests a gentle hand on his cheek to turn his face to the side, brushing at the scrapes on the other cheek.

"Wasn't tired," he mumbles, but she knows that that's Dick-speak for _I had a nightmare._

Barbara moves from cleaning his face to unzip his ruined suit a bit, peeling off his arms and upper torso to clean the torn skin there.

This isn't the first time she's done so, but her face warms anyway. Not that he'd notice, though, with his eyes shut so tightly; barricaded against either the uncomfortable brush of the cloth on his tender bruises, or the nightmares the roused him from sleep in the first place.

"Your parents again?" Barbara asks softly, pulling his face closer to work away at the dark, clotted blood matting his hair to his head. She leans forward, startles a bit when his blue eyes flicker open in response, searching her face for a moment.

"Yes," Dick replies honestly, his voice catching.

"I'm sorry."

He recovers quickly, replies, "It's okay. I tried to go back to sleep, but. I couldn't, and I was staying at the Manor to help with repairs to the Cave, so I just left out the window."

She rolls her eyes at his easy smile, because _he is so ridiculous sometimes._ Water-diluted blood runs down his face and neck when she finally works the clumps out of his hair, trailing onto the couch. "You're just too good for doors now, huh?" she quips, and runs a hand down a particularly long scratch on his forearm, making him shiver.

"Nah, it's just that I told Alfred I was going to skip patrol tonight, and if he caught me out of bed at this hour, there would be hell to pay."

Realization dawning on her, Barbara drops his arm and jumps clear off the sofa. "Oh, I see how it is -you didn't come to my apartment because it was _convenient-_you just didn't want Alfred to catch you out of bed!"

Dick blinks innocently, says, "What?" but she knows better.

"What am I going to do with you, Wonder Bread?" She rubs her eyes, pinches the bridge of her nose. "Get your lying ass in the shower and scrub the rest of this crap off yourself."

Extending a hand, she hauls him up off the sofa and onto his slightly steadier feet.

He knows better than to argue, just asks meekly, "Do you still have that change of clothes I left over here?" His bright blue eyes laugh down at her.

Pointingtoward her room with an expression of mock-frustration, she huffs, "In my closet."

He stumbles his way down the hallway, gets the clothes he'd left behind before a mission once, and hops in the shower.

His suit's completely ruined, slashed to pieces; she tosses it in the trash. The mask can probably be salvaged, so it stays. Having lost her apetite for it, she pours the rest of the now-cold coffee down the drain. Oh, well. She doesn't really need the empty calories, anyway- just likes the taste of it.

He'd given her such a scare, showing up at her door, covered and bruises and bloody, matted hair. She shivers involuntarily, wraps her arms around herself.

Less than five minutes later, he emerges, covered in pinkish scrapes but otherwise clean. His wet hair drips onto his shirt, and Barbara has to smile when he shakes it out, like a dog after a bath.

"Gross!" she laughs, throws up her hands to protect herself from the spray. He grins, then collapses back down onto her couch; as a temporary fix, she had flipped the cushions to the non-bloodied undersides.

Barbara walks over to him, sits in the armchair opposite the couch. "Call Batman, can you bunk over?" she asks sarcastically.

"Count on it, Gordon," he says, throwing an arm over his eyes.

She sighs, turns off the lights, and settles back down in the chair for the night.

After a minute, Dick murmurs, "Babs?"

"Yeah, Dick."

"Thanks."

She mumbles the truth- that it's no problem; that he'd do the same for her, and rests her cheek in the corner of the chair contentedly. Exhausted, they both drift off momentarily.

(And somehow -she's not saying how, mind you- by morning, she ends up curled beside him on the ruined sofa.)

_how my days, they spin me 'round_

_how my days, they let me down_

_and then there's you_

_and then there's you_

_and then there's you_


End file.
